Mind Vomit

so it's time for another one of these is it well the pressure has been building in there for some time so throw on the italics like a second skin because if things are written in that manner it means they doesn't matter so AWAY WE GO LADIES AND GENTLEMAN AWAY WE GO it doesn't matter what he writes as long as he doesn't stop writing with his tongue hanging from the side of his mouth and his muttered cursewords when he misspells something that he'll have to go back and correct but right now that's all irrelevant, because his mind is on puppets and puppeteers and the stability of the human condition and how if there is something so right and strong and immortal within him how come he is tugged on the winds of fate without any control over his own actions at all? I mean, is there a grand puppeteer that is out there responsible for the great crash and collision as the puppets tumble into each other? If there is, why isn't he expected to untangle the strings afterwards? Why does that fall to the puppets? And why the hell isn't he the puppeteer? That'd be fair. That's be right. That'd be proper. There's ice in his veins and he's willing to do what must be done. But he's soaring, right, he's miles above, and it's at that stage where you can't tell if they're falling or flying because the speed is just too great, whipping past his face at a thousand miles a second and his head fills like it's going to be used as some great vessel, and it swells and swells and swells as he plummets and if it keeps up like this he'll pop, he'll burst and his blood will decorate the skies and everybody will see it from where they sit and watch and care not one jot, not one whit because they've got their own things to worry about and a bloodied boy on high is not something you expect to see every day and he probably got himself into that sort of trouble anyway and as long as he doesn't drip on us it's hardly worth commenting on, really, because these are the ways of the world and the cat keeps licking himself and the poisons are weighing on his mind and now his fingers ache so he's going to stop writing now. He has been writing for two minutes and seven seconds. That's not bad. It's a few more now. But now he will stop.